


Bloody Noses and Fiendfyre

by ottosrvnge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Ron Weasley, Bodyguard, Cigarettes, Daily Prophet, Death Eaters, Dragons, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Nightmares, Nosebleed, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Parseltongue, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Snakes, Thestrals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26336290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottosrvnge/pseuds/ottosrvnge
Summary: Draco Malfoy is the Ministry (or rather Ron and Hermione) appointed protection detail for the newly drug-addicted Harry Potter against a rising terrorist group of Neo-Deatheaters.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	1. Oh How The Chosen Have Fallen

"Harry, please, you have to have some sort of protection," Hermione pleaded, her hands almost tearing out her hair as they ran through it, he was really starting to feel a little guilty. "You don't have to stay in the safe house but these radicals are serious, you know about the attack on St. Mungos." 

"They're Deatheaters, Mione. Terrorists. Don't water them down," Harry interjected, the thought of anyone idolizing Voldemort after all these years made his blood fucking boil. It was even worse how everyone's so bloody scared to call them what they are. 

"Exactly! They're Deatheaters, and you're the bloody Boy Who Lived! At least let the Ministry strengthen your wards and give you a protection detail. Merlin's sake, you're in real danger!" Her voice was strained, she looked so tired. Harry was feeling more and more guilty as she went on, but he didn't need protection. He killed Voldemort. 

"I killed the real Dark Lord before-" 

"And you had to fucking die to do it," Ron shouted from the doorway, Harry hadn't even heard him come in, "Blimey Harry, you're taking the bodyguard or I'm locking you in Azkaban." 

"Well, that's a bit much." 

"Thank you dear," Hermione sighed as she kissed Ron on the cheek. "Threats was my next plan." 

Harry expected Hermione to object, Dementors were hardly a step up from these new deatheaters "He can't possibly throw me in-" 

"You're forgetting I have the bloody keys. It's your choice, mate." Ron looked so serious, aurors aren't supposed to do that. It's definitely an abuse of power, especially to your best mate. Harry reluctantly nodded, incredulous that they didn't believe he could fight off a few psychotic teenagers and some fiendfyre. 

"Finally!" Hermione exclaimed, relaxing a little as she tended to her teapot just before it actually started whistling. 

Ron called some Ministry bloke from his fireplace, talking about the protections. Harry was half listening before he felt his head grow tighter, his scar aching as he itched for a cigarette. He spelled his jacket to him, "I'm having a fag."

"Harry-" Hermione started, but Harry was already out the door. He couldn't imagine any neo-deatheater would attack him in broad daylight surrounded by the policing aurors. 

The brick wall felt colder than the snow seeping into his boots. Harry hated everything that was touching him, he couldn't stand the way the bricks caught little strands of his hair or how it felt like it was scratching his- Siruis' jacket. Cold air blew his greasy hair back into his face, he couldn't bloody handle this. He absolutely loathed that god damn wall. The final straw was when he hit his elbow on it trying to put his lighter back in his pocket, making the cigarette he spent a whole minute trying to light into the wet snow. He punched it. Magic surrounded the force, responding to his rage and leaving green sparks in the cracks he created. Fuck. Ron's gonna kill him. 

"Oh, how the chosen have fallen." 

Harry hated that voice, too. Almost as much as he hated the man attached to it, with his white hair and perfect auror robes. "Sod off, Malfoy." 

"I can't very well take my eyes off this disaster, Scarhead." Malfoy whispered some spell with his wand pointed at the cig, guiding it back between Harry's lips, dried and lit. Harry took a drag, letting the smoke calm him. 

"You and your terrorists can kill me some other time," He regretted his words as soon as they came out, studying Malfoy's face for any real kind of hurt. 

"Fuck off," he snorted "Don't you read the tabloids? I'm fully reformed, Baby. I've even got the certificates to prove it." 

"Don't call me baby." 

"Wasn't personal, Potter." 

Harry had already smoked half of his fag, he stared at Malfoy for a long while as he let himself relax against the wall, hot sparks of his magic hitting his neck but he couldn't be bothered to stop the burning. It was always a surprise to see Malfoy, he looked entirely different than his teenage self. His hair fell loose on his face, tattoos snaked up from his collarbones and his auror training had given him such a muscular build. Harry had only seen him a handful of times since he testified at his post-war trials, he couldn't get used to how much Malfoy had grown. 

"What are you even doing here?" Harry asked, "I can't imagine why you'd ever be in the vicinity of this many poor people." 

"Never pegged you for a classist, the fame's really gotten to you, huh?" 

"Bugger off, you're the one with slaves." It was so easy to fall in a rhythm with Malfoy, the comfort made Harry feel so uneasy. 

"My house elves are not slaves, you prat. And, I'm here on official Auror business." 

"You've got to be bloody joking. You're my protection detail? You can barely take a first year." 

"I'll have you know, I could fight off an entire class of first years. You look like a bloody skeleton, and I really doubt your lungs could handle a flight of stairs with how much poison you're giving them." Malfoy wasn't wrong, Harry was entirely too skinny. He hadn't been very good at eating, or showering, or anything really since his nightmares came back. The cigarettes didn't help, neither did the rest of the drugs he was doing, but no one really needed to know about all that. 

"Still stronger than you, Ferret-face." 

"Killing you would be bad for my job, so I'm just gonna let you believe that, honey." Malfoy's saccharine words made Harry gag, he really disliked how many pet names were in Malfoy's arsenal now. 

"Honey and Baby? Are you getting keen on me? Aw that's so sweet my teeth are rotting out of my skull." Harry gagged again and took in the last drag of his cigarette, the fire reaching the filter and burning his fingertips just a little bit. 

"Merlin, lighten up. As if I'd ever fancy you. I can get far better blokes." 

Harry just remembered he heard Malfoy was gay a year or two ago, how could he forget that ridiculous headline in The Prophet 'Draco Mal-GAY?!'

"Doubt it, Mal-gay." 

"So you do read the tabloids about me. I'm flattered, truly." 

Harry grunted in response, pulling another fag out of his jacket pocket and placing it in his lips as he tried to shield the lighter's flame from the wind. Malfoy laughed as Harry spent a few seconds flicking the lighter and said something about useless muggle things. Harry didn't say anything. He was itching for something stronger, gently holding the pill bottle in his pocket. Being careful not to let it make noise just in case the Silencio charm wore off. It wasn't anything too bad, really. Just a muggle's Ritalin prescription, the label said it belonged to a 'Mae Borowski' he found it on the train a few days before. He felt a little bad for taking it, the Gryffindor in him conflicting with his- whatever was in him recently.

"Can I have one?" Malfoy asked, he was leaning against the wall only half a meter away. Harry flinched at first thinking he had seen the pill bottle but quickly fished out another cigarette before Malfoy could register that panic. 

"Incendio," Harry said softly, lighting it wandlessly. Malfoy coughed a little on his first puff, but it seemed to come naturally to him. 

"Thought you were too good for poisoned lungs." 

"Apparently not." 

It was weird to talk without insults, but Harry decided not to dwell on it. Regrettably, they were going to be spending quite a bit of time together, it would be exhausting if they couldn't be civil for at least some of it. 

"There you are. Are you going to come to sup- What the bloody hell did you do to my house?" Ron stood, staring at the faint green veins running along the side of his home. 

"Blame the ferret." 

"How noble of you," Malfoy scoffed, getting his wand out and mumbling a "Murus Reparo." 

Harry didn't know that one, maybe he should've gone to auror training. The cracks merged back together but the thin green lines stayed. 

"I loved those bricks," Ron whined to Harry. 

"Sorry, mate." Harry kept feeling guilty today, he really just needed to go home. Calm himself down, not that the pills would calm him down at all but it would make everything less irritating. 

"So are yo-" 

"Malfoy needs to get an early start on the protection wards, I'll find something to eat later." Harry gripped Malfoy's forearm and apparated out before Ron could object. 

"Fucking Christ, you could have warned me. I could have been squilched, you bloody loon." Malfoy shouted, coughing smoke through his words. He did look a little out of sorts, Harry wanted to apologize but it seemed out of place with him. 

"Stop being dramatic, you're fine," Harry said half-heartedly, making his way to the loo already popping the top off of the pill bottle from the inside of his pocket, making sure Malfoy doesn't see. He can already imagine the headlines 'Ministry confirms Harry Potter; Boy Who Lived is a Worthless Junkie' not that he is a junkie. An unwelcome 'yet' at the end of that sentence invaded Harry's thoughts. 

He locked the door, placing a charm to really make sure it couldn't be opened. Finally, Harry relaxed. Unfolding a dollar bill from his pants pockets and placing it over four of the little pills, he crushed the pills with his wand. Only a little stray magic spilling out from the end. It was calming, the routine; crush, line, cut, snort. Simple. The lines made his eyes water and his throat get caught in itself, but he finished them with a smile. Flushing the toilet, and composing himself as best he could before he went back out to Malfoy. 

"Long time for a piss, Potter." 

"So?" Harry laughed, a little too long he will admit. 

"Right then." 

Harry lit another cigarette, coughing as the smoke mingled with the Ritalin dripping down his sinuses. 

"Why do you use that thing?" Malfoy asked, he was staring at Harry. 

"Feels better with it, natural I suppose," Harry sniffled, wiping his nose against his shirt sleeve. Malfoy definitely noticed. 

Harry could feel the wards Malfoy set up, his magic was comfortably cool and for a split second Harry worried he had found something scandalous. 

"Were you snooping, Malfoy?" he asked, a languid smile on his face as he wandlessly spelled over two glasses of firewhiskey. 

"You've got boring taste in porn, Potter." 

"Which stash did you find?" 

"Which stash do you not want me to find?" 

Harry downed all his firewhiskey before replying, "You'd have to tell me about all your sex interests before I tell you anything about mine." 

His hand had found it's way onto Malfoy's knees, tracing little circles into the fabric. Malfoy's breath hitched and he met Harry's eyes, like he was studying them. 

"Lightweight," Malfoy laughed and pushed Harry's hand off of him. 

"Coward." 

"I shouldn't be drinking on the job anyway- Wait, Potter you're bleeding." Malfoy pointed to Harry's nose. 

"S'fine," Harry could feel the warmth of the nosebleed running down his lips, the metallic taste mixed with the slightest bit of bitter Ritalin. He took off Siruis' jacket and held his nose with his shirt sleeve as he finished off the last of his cig. 

"Let me see, you could have been poisoned." 

"Wasn't. I've always had them." 

"No, you haven't. I spent 8 years with you and I've never-" 

"I said it was fine, Malfoy." 

"I'm just trying to do my bloody job, you prat. Just let me take you to a healer just to-" 

Harry kissed him, he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't go to a healer, couldn't risk them or anyone finding out he steals muggle medicine to kill his nose. Their lips moved the slightest bit together, Malfoy's tongue brushing against Harry's bottom lip before he froze completely. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Malfoy shoved Harry away, almost pushing him off his chair completely. 

Harry noticed the blood, smeared across pale skin, pink lips, and stray strands of hair. He cast a quick 'Scourgify' on both of them. At least the plan seemed to work, Malfoy had completely forgotten about his healer idea. 

"Seriously, what the fuck Potter?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to make up a buncha spells with Latin and French words bc I can


	2. He's Going To Kill Himself, Mandrake

_"Harry,"_ _Malfoy's_ _voice cried out. Harry flinched from under the floorboards, it was the first time Malfoy said his first name._

_Draco._ _He was bleeding through his robes, like when Harry cast_ _Sectumsempra_ , _blood poured from those horrid scars Harry knew were there. Draco fell, his dull empty eyes met Harry's._

_"It's your fault," Harry heard in_ _parseltongue_ _, as cold hands wrapped around his neck. He couldn't breathe. He knew those hands, those sharp nails, that tugging in his mind, and he knew he was going to die._

_Draco's lifeless eyes were still on Harry, staring as he struggled against-_

"Potter, you have to let me in." Malfoy demanded outside his bedroom door, waking Harry up with a start. He was shaking, sweat covering his skin and his sheets, throat sore like he had been screaming. The dream had felt so real. Draco always made them feel more real.

"Potter, let me in your wards or I swear I'll tear down this entire wall," Draco shouted, breaking Harry out of his sleep. He walked to his bedroom door as Draco continued his annoying yelling, still shaking as he flung it open.

"Merlin's Sake, what time is it Dra- Malfoy," Harry grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he felt the sharp tightness of a hangover growing behind them. He saw Malfoy's eyebrows raise at his almost 'Draco' mistake, he made a mental note to deliberately think of him as Malfoy.

"7. You were screaming."

"Why does it matter to you? Not like I was screaming for you."

"You were, actually."

Harry felt Malfoy's eyes trailing down his chest, and he gently remembered yesterday, "I thought you would've left."

Malfoy scoffed, "Some of us have jobs, Scarhead. I can handle a little sexual harassment for a steady salary."

"It was n- I'm sorry." Harry gently pulled his arms around his bare chest, the sweat was freezing. He supposed it was sexual harassment, he really shouldn't have done that. Panic should be familiar to him, he should know what to do. Draco sighed and cast a warming charm on Harry, his magic felt so comforting, "Thanks, Dra-" he let himself trail off.

"You're allowed to call me Draco, it is my name. I wasn't aware you actually knew it."

"I jus need a fag and I'll forget it again."

Drac- Malfoy nodded, a silent laugh behind his lips. The cigarettes came without Harry noticing, there was one filling his lungs before he thought to Accio them. He was noticing Malfoy's eyes. They were grey, cold, comforting. The dream came back in little snippets; Blood mixed into those eyes. Lifeless at the floor of the Astronomy Tower. Harry hated thinking about school, but it was better to think about Malfoy. Malfoy's skin used to be grey in school, he used to be sickly, strung out and frayed at every end. Harry felt guilty he never thought to help. Well of course he thought about helping him, saving him from himself, pulling him aside in a hallway and begging him to switch sides, making him feel indebted to the world. But Harry knew Malfoy wasn't stupid and he wasn't that heartless, he couldn't ever bring himself to pressure another kid like that- like him. Maybe things would've been better for him if he could. Harry wasn't sure which 'him' he was thinking of. Malfoy. Potter. Both.

"Was it a nightmare?" Malfoy asked, Harry just noticed that he had been staring back that whole time.

"It was." Harry was resigned about it, quiet and solemn as he flicked his lighter absently into the air. "They went away for a while, I think."

"Mine, too."

Harry offered him a fag as he got another one out, both still just standing in the doorway. Malfoy gestured for the lighter, fumbling with it for a few seconds before whispering a frustrated 'Incendio.'

"You're so smart."

"Oh shut it, Pratter. Not my fault muggles can't make anything practical."

"How creative, Mal-Soyboy."

"I'm not even going to ask what that means."

Malfoy's laugh sounded nice, the real one wasn't pretentious it was surprisingly warm. Harry knew he had entirely changed from school- for the better, unlike Harry- but it didn't exactly register. He looked entirely different too, without his auror robes on. Tight trousers and tank tops looked good on him, the sleeve of his loosely draped hoodie hid his forearm. Or rather, what was on his forearm. Deathmarks couldn't be covered up, no matter how much ink and magic you put over it.

"A thestral," Harry mused, reaching his fingers out to Malfoy's neck where the drawn death horse moved up to Malfoy's ear.

"What?"

"Your tattoo, I didn't think you could see them."

Malfoy gave him a strange look, his light eyebrows furrowing together. "I find them comforting."

Harry's fingers were still brushing against the thestral on Malfoy's neck, it was trying to wrap itself around his carotid. It's breath was almost real against Harry's fingertips. He stroked along its mane, only pulling away when he heard Malfoy gasp.

"Sorry."

"Merlin, Potter." Draco sounded exasperated, breathless. Malfoy, Harry corrected himself.

"When do you sleep?" Harry asked as soon as the thought popped into his head, "Seeing as you're the only one protecting me."

Draco smirked, patting a small box set out on one of the many side tables "Who said I was alone?"

Harry heard the faintest hissing coming from inside, "A snake?"

"An Opaleyed Basilisk-" Harry faltered, remembering Tom Riddle's Basilisk, Malfoy seemed to notice "-I trained her with Charlie since she hatched, she even knows how to control her eyes. I learned a little parseltongue."

"Like what?"

Malfoy said a few choppy words, " _Eat. Sleep. Swim. Bite. Stare. Frog._ "

" _Frog?_ " Harry repeated in parseltongue, thinking Draco had said it wrong.

"Yeah, she loves them."

"Didn't think basilisks ate frogs," Harry muttered. Draco was so excited about his snake, it was warming the way his eyes danced with adoration.

"She doesn't eat them, you monster. She's friends with them."

"What's her name, Draco?"

"You do still remember," Draco laughed, Harry felt his face get warm, embarrassed.

"The snake's name, Prat."

"Narcissa like-"

"Like your mom," Harry nodded, he heard Malfoy's mom died not long after Lucius was sent to Azkaban. He didn't think she was a bad person, not like Lucius.

"Right, well, I thought Nagini would have been tasteless."

Harry laughed, "Immensely."

Snakes had been a sore comfort for a while, they plagued Harry's nightmares and held small conversations during the days with little garden snakes. They judged him for everything. Bastards, the lot of them. One particular snake who used to hang around, saw him taking a line once and told him he'd be better off with a Crucio. The bastard even offered to do it for him.

"I'm having a piss," Harry announced, waiting for Draco to turn away before spelling the pill bottle quickly to him. He can't take enough to cause another nose bleed, Merlin forbid he has to kiss Draco again.

"Another long one?"

Harry didn't answer.

Crush. Line. Cut. Snort. Three of the little pills. He actually took a piss while he waited to see if his nose would bleed. Little drops fell from his nostril, but stopped as soon as they started. He had heard good things about cocaine, more bad things, but he did want to try it. Maybe he'd try it if the Ritalin stopped working as well, like he tried Ritalin after the cigarettes stopped calming him.

" _He's going to kill himself, Mandrake._ " Harry heard faintly in parseltongue. Narcissa. Was she talking about him?

"Do you need food, Ness?"

Thank Merlin, Draco didn't understand. Harry flushed and collected himself before coming back out.

"Is your cock broken? Do you need to see a healer?" Draco asked, holding back his snark as he faked concern.

"Piss off, Mandrake. My cock is perfectly wonderful." Harry sniffled and grabbed his cock through his pyjamas to show Malfoy how perfectly healthy it was.

"Mandrake," Draco repeated, his cheeks tinted the slightest bit pink. Narcissa was coiled around his arm, over his hoodie sleeve.

"It's what your snake calls you."

"Suppose you want me to hire you as a translator then."

"You're the one hired by me."

"For you, actually."

"Against what? A bunch of stupid teenagers."

"A bunch of stupid terrorists, Golden Boy. You, of all people, should take Deatheaters seriously."

"Right," Harry sniffled again, disliking the new air of discomfort, and sat down to smoke his last cigarette, "I need a new pack."  



	3. Just A Little Ash

"Do you think there's actual ghosts in ghost peppers?" Harry hummed absentmindedly, his fingers reaching out to the packages. The Ritalin always made him so curious, the strange focuses were comforting- it felt more natural to see through fluorescent fuzz.

"They're peanuts, Potter. Just get your pack, muggle stores aren't that safe."

"Safer here than.." he didn't know how to put it into words, the fluorescent lights and the fresh smell of construction was calming. It felt like that train station, but no one expected anything of him there. No saving the world, no going back, just money.

"Three packs of ports, 100's." Draco told the cashier, Harry could almost taste that snobbery he knew from school.

"It's 30.84," the cashier kept looking at Harry, like she knew him. He was used to that in the wizarding world, maybe she was a muggle-born. Draco pulled on the sleeve of Harry's jacket, the cigarettes stacked in his hand, pulling him towards the exit. Harry didn't know who paid.

"Good luck with that." the cashier snorted as they left.

Harry stopped outside the store, trying to catch up as time felt like it was leaving him behind. He realized he didn't eat.

"You alright?"

"Jus' need to sit down for a bit," Harry checked to see if his nose was bleeding before gesturing for the packs Draco was holding.

Draco got a fug out for himself before handing Harry the packs. He dropped one, hands shakier than they should be, staring at it for a moment before deciding it didn't matter and taking a seat on the curb. The concrete was cold against Harry's thighs, it grounded him. Everything felt like that train station, if it wasn't for the sharp burn running through his lips he wouldn't know if he was even real. He knew he was shaking, the soft movements, magic vibrating under his skin. It kept him from feeling the palpitations, the Ritalin had that affect. Tiny heart attacks.

"Potter," Harry looked up, Draco's voice always commanded attention, even if it was as soft as it was now, "You burned yourself, you git."

"S'fine, just a little ash." Draco's eyes were fixed on Harry's thigh, a little hole in his pants where the cigarette ash had fallen. It hurt a little, when Harry noticed it, but the winter had numbed his leg already.

"You're a loon."

Harry jus hummed, inhaling the last of the smoke before standing, almost falling as his body adjusted. He held his hand out for Draco, their eyes met and Harry noticed how pretty those gray eyes really were. Harry had never really looked close enough at Draco's eyes, always shying away from them during school and harshly averting them after the trials. He could see the reflection of the sky in them, dark clouds on blue sky, moving so fluidly. It was beautiful. Beautiful until he felt the sharp ringing in his ears, glass connecting with his skin. He held the pill bottle tightly in his hand, careful not to lose it.

 _"We won't let you stop us again, Harry Potter."_ A voice boomed in his head, like his link with Voldemort. But he was dead. He is dead. Voldemort can't possibly be alive. Right?

His vision went black. Then green. Then everything was that awful white. He heard trains.


	4. Blood

Harry felt like he'd been squilched. His head was trying to burst apart. He could feel tiny glass shards underneath his skin, aching and foreign. Shaking. He was still shaking.

"Some bodyguard you are," he mumbled, glaring at Draco as he sat on Harry's kitchen counter. Fixing his own wounds before Harry's, how selfish.

"Told you muggle stores weren't safe."

"They hate muggles, thought you all thought they weren't even worth an attack." Harry searched around for a cigarette, wincing as the glass moved deeper into him with every step.

"I'm not one of them. Never was." Draco's voice was cold, he had stopped moving.

"Sorry," Harry said on instinct, seeing the practiced disappointment and guilt in Draco's face, "I know."

Draco inhaled as he pulled out a large shard of glass from his shoulder, blood trickled down his pale skin. Pretty. Harry looked around for the fugs, eyes locking in on the tattered pack next to Draco's bare thigh. He'd taken off his pants, they were thrown onto the sofa, covered in holes and little spots of wet red. He had tattoos all over; a wolf ran back and forth from his knee, a hippogriff sleeping near his ankle, and a small elf with a lantern walked in spirals around his thigh, a brick tunnel following where it walked.

"Dobby." Harry stared, his voice was barely a whisper as his throat began to close up.

"You were there when he- right?" Draco asked, fingers resting just behind where Dobby was walking. He sounded sad. Unmistakable grief. Harry didn't know Draco even cared about his house elf. "Did he suffer?"

"No. It was quick." Harry couldn't take his eyes off the Dobby on Draco's leg, he looked happy, peaceful. Exactly like Harry remembered him.

"I was the one that sent him to you, you know. Thought you might have listened," Draco's voice was soft, Harry could hear the lump in his throat.

"Thank you." Dobby waved from Draco's leg, it was a perfect portrait of the elf. "He dropped a cake on my aunt's friend."

Draco laughed, "I told him to be ruthless."

Harry felt a tear fall as Dobby rounded the curve to the underside of Draco's leg, disappearing again. He worked on controlling his breathing, he went to a psychiatrist once who told him to think about his surroundings. Draco. Cigarettes. Glass. Blood. It was horrid advice. Being aware made him feel even more unreal, unworthy, uncontrolled.

"I'm going to the bathroom." Harry clenched the pill bottle in his pocket, grabbing the cigarettes with his free hand. His fingers brushed against Draco's thigh as he slid the pack off the counter, gasping as he felt a stray shard of glass fall from his forearm. He was grateful Draco didn't say anything about the sounds of the pills hitting plastic as Harry walked.

Harry leaned against the bathroom door, not caring that it pushed glass shards deeper into his back. He didn't know where his lighter was. Maybe it fell when he apparated.

"Incendio," he muttered to the cigarette between his lips, his hand shaking as he took a drag. The smoke comforted his lungs. Just like the pills comforted his fingers as he emptied six onto the bathroom counter. Glass pushed deeper into his skin as he moved, falling into the routine. A drop of blood fell onto one of the lines Harry had made, coagulating the powder in a sharp red. He had lost his cash. Rummaging through the cabinet until he found the metal tube he had pocketed from a muggle party, he wished he'd tried the cocaine he was offered there. Snot caught on his upper lip. He wiped it, making sure his nostril was clean enough for the ritalin to move straight through to his brain.

It burned more this time, he didn't stop to breathe between lines. There was blood on his cigarette as he picked it back up from beside the sink, smoking despite it.

 _"Blood._ " Harry heard in parseltongue, Narcissa's concerned judgement. When had Draco let her out? He'd been in the bathroom too long. Draco would start to worry, he'd try to get in, he'd take away Harry's pills. Vile.

He cast another Silencio charm on his pocket, and on the bottle, before exiting into the cold thick air of his home. Worse than outside. He tugged Sirius' jacket closer to his body, wincing as he felt glass shift.

"Let me take them out, Harry." Draco was on the sofa, only in his boxers, letting the littered wounds contrast with his skin. He was pretty. "Shrapnel's not good for you."

Harry laughed, feeling his mind get a little fuzzy. Barely feeling the million little puncture wounds, he took off the jacket and tried to remove his shirt but his shoulders refused to move with him. Harry started to say something but his thoughts got fuzzed over as Draco pulled the shirt off of him.

Gentle fingers ripped the tiny bits of glass out harshly, Harry didn't mind it. His body had gone into that comfortable overwhelmed state, only feeling the soft warmth the wounds radiated. Draco had moved all over his body, Harry had hardly noticed he was hard until Draco stopped everything.

"Sorry." Harry thought about moving away from him, only getting as far as to stir slightly as he choked down a lazy laugh.

Draco moved Harry's jacket to his lap, "I'll let you off this time, only because you almost died."

"I wouldn't have died, Malfoy. I'm incredibly strong."

Draco laughed, reaching to pull a piece of glass from Harry's neck far too close to his carotid for comfort. Everything was too close for comfort. Harry felt the ritalin drip down his throat, he swallowed trying hard to break eye contact with Draco. Trying even harder to keep his fingers from tracing the veins on that pale, blood-speckled neck.

"Are you going to kiss me again?"

"Would you let me?"

Draco moved closer, his fingers settled on a puncture wound on Harry's jaw. They were so close.

"Don't make me quit."

"You wouldn't," Harry spoke softly, pressing their lips together. Relishing in the taste of Draco's bloodied chapped lips. It was sweet. Draco returned the kiss, his hands traveling up Harry's neck and through his hair. It had been a while since anyone had touched Harry like that, he couldn't help the smile that broke their lips apart.

Draco faltered, his body stiffened, he pulled back away from Harry. "Fuck, Potter. I need a drink."   
  
  



End file.
